


Lights, Camera, Mayhem

by karrenia_rune



Category: Marvel 616, X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ransom note, an engimatic and unknown enemy with unorthodox methods but a connection to both Longshot and Dazzler brings the team to an maze of an abandoned theater and an unexpected reunion. However, with this enemy is all about being more than what shows on the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights, Camera, Mayhem

Disclaimer: X-Factor Investigations belongs to Marvel Comics etc.  
As do all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned. They are not mine and are only 'borrowed' for the  
purposes of the story. Some Ric/Star over-tones and guest-starring Dazzler.

 

"Lights, Camera, Action" by karrenia

 

Maybe he had been overly obsessing over his own relationship difficulties to be aware of anyone else’s. Maybe it was not so much a lack of awareness that if you were to determine the level of relationship train-wrecks waiting to happen on a scale of one to ten with then being the highest, he and Shatter star, would rate a respectable six or seven at the least.  
Things had been getting better, all things considered, but Star being Star was capable of demonstrating raw emotion but somehow it was never the right kind or the most appropriate emotion, given the circumstances.

And if that was the case, yeah, they were good together, yeah, he was deliriously happy when they were together, and maybe it wasn’t Shatterstar’s emotions that were the problem; maybe it was their collective inability to say or do the right thing at the right time.

Rictor shook his head and lightly thwacked the palm of his hand against his temple. And herein lay the craziness of it all; whenever he wanted to talk it out, the words just came out all wrong, stifled and awkward. So he had not been as observant as he should have been, but even he knew when he’d run into a conversational wall.

Every time the subject came up on exactly what their connection was other than the obvious conclusion that both came from an alternate dimension called Mojoworld even as distracted as he was by his own shit, something was obviously wrong here. Every time someone on the team brought it up one or both neatly deflected the questions, well-meaning or otherwise; and the subject was forgotten in the press of more urgent concerns.

Rictor decided that maybe would find a time to discuss the subject with Madrox and see what he would say about, and if that didn’t pan out he might even have to bring up the subject with Layla. But even as that last thought went through his mind he realized that much of his animosity towards her had dissipated over the time that she had been a member of the team.

“Madre de Dios! Would you get a grip!” he berated himself aloud.  
***

At the moment at least one of the objects of his meandering thoughts was in his room his right hand clenched into a fist over a crumpled if high-quality paper. He had read over the contents of that missive more than once and it still did not change its implicit meaning. It essentially said that if he did not show up at a certain location at a certain time and alone than the woman he still loved would come to almost certain doom.

In the back of his mind Longshot thought with some scoffing, “Who still uses the phrase ‘almost certain doom’ these days? There were any number of villains that might or were capable of carrying out that threat, the municipal and devious Arcade came to mind but the last he recalled having heard or seen from him was he had been instrumental in the destruction of the former enclave once called Mutant Town. ‘Since then: nothing, so why now? And why Dazzler?’

They’d just reconnected, literally, his fractured and considerably uncertain memories of his past notwithstanding, and the fact that she lived on the other side of the country, but against all odds they had managed to reconnect, and he felt that connection growing stronger over the last year or so. Was to lose her now? Should he inform his friends and teammates of what was happening?

He’d spent most of the time after he’d cooled down and gotten his anger under control, pacing back and forth in his room before he’d finally came to a decision. Striding over to the door  
Longshot wrenched it open with more force than was either wise or necessary and stalked down the corridor to the stairs and on down to the first floor where Madrox sat a desk hunched over the account books.

“We need to talk,” He announced planting himself in front of the desk as he did so. 

“I know, I know,” Longshot sighed as he dove into one of the numerous pockets of his black jumpsuit and pulled out the note he’d received. “I want you to have a look at this, in fact, is Layla around?”

“Why? What is it?” Madrox asked.

“It’s a warning, of sorts. I know what you’ve always said about jumping to conclusions, but the only person who would know where both I am and where Dazzler was, …he trailed off reaching up his left hand to finger-comb some of the worst of the snarls out of his blonde hair.

“Dazzler? I didn’t think that you two were still in communication” Jamie Madrox began but then seeing the office tension in the muscles of Longshot’s bunched shoulders and also in the lines of his face, took the note and read it. “Two questions, well, three, really: A: Do you really believe that it’s genuine? B: If it is, can you afford to take the risk? And last but not least...do you really believe Arcade is responsible?”

“I cannot say with any degree of certainty, but it does fit with his modus operandi, and he is the only one among our, shall we say, varied rogues’ gallery that would be able to pull off something like this.”

“Granted, but according to the address, you’re supposed to meet the kidnapper right here in New York, near Battery Park. Unless Arcade or whomever went to all the trouble to transport his hostage all the way across the country...”

“For the sake of argument, let us say it is him, what do we do now?”

“Among all of us, we’ve dealt with him before and you’re right it does fit in with his M.O, the thing of it I don’t think that you should keep this little rendezvous on your own.” He paused and began to unconsciously tap the barrel of his pen against the corners of the accounting books. “I don’t think you should go alone. If I recall correctly, which I think I do, Rictor, Shatterstar, and possibly Terry have dealt have had previous run-ins with Arcade before.”

“The rendezvous is less than three hours away,” stated Longshot.

“I know, I know. So, go get the others, they should know what’s going on, too.”

***  
Elsewhere in an abandoned movie set that whose front entryway looked out onto an excellent view of Battery Park, a man wearing a long trailing cloak and wearing an object that looked suspiciously like a fish-bowl on the top of his head, he entered the building by means of a side entrance and traversed the narrow corridors that were only dimly lit by flickering recessed lights badly in need of repair and on into a large central room that held a theater, with a center stage, seating area and on that stage a woman tied to a chair.

Her long wheat-blond hair that she normally took such care and time to comb and bring to a glossy shine was now bedraggled and bound up in a rough pony tail. Her arms were covered up to her elbows in a metal sheath that effectively prevented her from using her powers to either free herself or attack the man holding her captive.

Alison Blaire, also known as Dazzler would no doubt have more than a few choice words to utter to the man who called himself Mysterio; scathing, snide, and spirited words had he not gagged her; as it was she had had no choice but to suffer this indignity in silence and wait for an opportunity to escape.

She had no way of knowing if anyone else knew that she’d been captured or by whom, and if they did notice that she was missing they might not have been able to determine where she was; no, if she was going to effect an escape she would have to do so on her own.  
**

It was getting very late when they arrived and the park was only dimly illuminated from the tall stanchions that held the electric glass lamps at the four entrances/exits to and from the park and then fronting on the plaza and the abandoned theater which matched the address

Longshot had been given. That the man was feeling both anxious and angry was no surprise, what did come as something of a surprise was that he could hold in his obviously churning emotions so well.

“There it is,” Madrox stated, somewhat unnecessarily, mainly for something to say.

Longshot nodded but did not immediately reply.

“Guido you and Rahne stay out here with the car, and wait for our signal. And don’t start in on how you don’t want to; because I want an ace in the hole, should we need one. Got it?” Madrox said.

Guido seated at on the driver’s side of the parked vehicle grinned and darted a significant glance at Rahne who gave him a two-thumbs-up by way of reply.

“Okay, now that’s settled, I think we should…”

“Are you certain this is the right place,” Rictor asked. Although he could not have said why in so many words, if asked, but he could also feel on a kind of visceral level that, yeah, this had to be the place, but on another, something was off. He, suddenly, just wished he could put his finger on what that proverbial ‘something.’ Aloud he said. “Guys, I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Noted, Rictor, but we’ve gone too far to turn back now,” Madrox replied.

“Just remember that you said that when the effing shit hits the fan, will you?” Rictor evenly replied.

“If he does not,” M,” added. “I shall make certain that he does.”  
Madrox throw up his hands in mingled exasperation and amusement. ”Geez, I get no respect around here. I swear it’s like herding cats.”

“Let’s us do this thing!” Shatterstar exclaimed.

“Yeah, like he said,” Madrox replied.  
**

While the exterior of the building may have been nothing out of the ordinary, in fact, so ordinary that it all but bordered in drabness; the interior was another story. Whoever had previously owned and operated the place had apparently left it quite a hurry; because they had left behind props, equipment and half-dismantled studio sets and costumes.

Piles of costumes ranging in genres from westerns, to romances and everything in between lay scattered around the place, draped over any surface that had come to hand; tables, couches, mirrors. The mirrors were everywhere, on the tables, the walls, even the floor-length pieces that were covered in cob-webs and dust.

“Nice place," Terry remarked. “Are you certain about this, Longshot?”

“As certain as I can be,” he replied.

“Hey, I asked you that earlier!” Madrox griped.

“I realize that, but at the time I was preoccupied in homing on Dazzler’s energy signal.”

“Okay, Terry’s right this place is a maze, we could be blindly wander around the place, it would definitely help if you can at least point us in the right direction,” Madrox said as he turned to Longshot.

With his one glowing eye tightly shut, he focused his concentration on the energy signature that he associated with Dazzler; after a heartbeat or two he turned around and strode down a branching corridor to their left and then angled off to the right. “This way,” he called over his shoulder.

“When will we get something to fight?” Shatterstar griped.

“Soon, I expect,” Madrox replied, whether that was true or not he did not particular care at the moment, but it seemed to satisfy Shatterstar and that the main reason for saying it.

In the next instant they heard a muffled thud and a groan and then the jarringly loud sound of broken metal and wood and plastic as the rotted wood of the corridor gave way underneath the weight of someone, obviously Longshot treading on it. Closing the distance they looked down through a gaping hole in the floor and their team-mate sprawled atop a heap of debris.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. We’re getting closer. Jump down here and join me!” He called back and so saying he jumped to his feet and ran off through an open door and into yet another room.

“Damn!” Madrox muttered under his breath. “We’d better go after him.”

But the others had already beaten him to the punch and we racing after their teammate who led the way farther and farther into the depths of the abandoned theater. “Hey! Wait for me!”  
***

Meanwhile Mysterio figured it was time he paid another visit to his captive. So far, he was rather disappointed in her potential as a star in one of his productions. He had done his research and knew that the woman known both as Alison Blaire and as Dazzler had once enjoyed a considerably lucrative career as singer but that had been a long time ago. However if anyone knew all about second chances and reinventing oneself, he did. The other thing was that he also knew that she was a mutant with a dangerous amount of raw power and so he had also taken precautions by finagling the power dampeners at a considerable cost from a weapons dealer that specialized in such things.

He had waited her out, and he had to admit that had proven to be one tough nut to crack. The only other woman was the red-headed beauty that he had once fallen quite hard for, one Mary Jane Watson. But that was not to be; and he believed that he had come to terms with that.

“My dear,” he began. “There really is no need to struggle. I am certain that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, given enough time.

“Don’t you dare call me, my dear! I would like to impress upon you that I am not yours, got that fish-bowl head!” she replied.

“How can I make you understand that I truly mean you no harm, that I want only what’s best for both of us.”

“Yeah, kidnapping, extortion, the way to a girl’s heart, what’s not to like about all of that?”

“I saw it as the only way to get your attention. Besides, if you must know at first, I only took you hostage for the money I was promised.”

“I knew it.”

“But you did not know all, in the time that we’ve been together, I believe that I have fallen in love with you and I believe this could be my opportunity to make a comeback in the theater! With you at my side!”

“You’re deranged!”

“You’ll come to see things my way, sooner or later.” With that Mysterio pivoted on his heel and quickly departed the room with a glance back over his shoulder at the lovely and spirited Ms. Blaire. ***

At that moment the team’s forward progress came to an abrupt halt at a solid brick and metal wall, bunching as they skidded to a halt. “Dead end,” Longshot replied.

M came up beside him and remarked “Not so fast,” she stated as she examined it from all angles and concluded. “It’s a wall that designed to look like a wall, but it’s actually a mechanical door with a locking mechanism. Do you see those grooves set just above head height?”

“We don’t have time to mess with it. If we did it could very well trigger an alarm or set off a trap, or something.” Madrox trailed.

“Or we could simply break down the wall,” M replied and proceeded to punch the wall again and again until she had made a hole big enough for them all to pass through.

Alison looked up at the noise wondering if it was her deranged captor come for another chat session, when she gasped as she realized that it was not Mysterio after all. In fact, it was the last person she had expected to see here. “Longshot!”

“Yeah, Ali, it’s me. Long time no-texting, huh?”

“Get her out there, already, will you?” M muttered.

Shatterstar growled under his breath and restlessly shuffled his feet on the wooden floor of the room. Rictor glanced at him and asked. “Hey, you okay?”

“I am fine, Julio. It is just that Madrox promised me something or someone to fight and I have yet to see anything that would fit that general description.”

“Who knows? The night’s still young.” Rictor replied.

“Indeed,” Shatterstar replied, apparently mollified.

“I’ve got her,” Longshot replied, after stealing a lingering kiss.

“Then let’s get out of here.“

“Can we get out the way we came in?” Madrox asked.

“Remember the place is a maze,” M replied.

“I was pretty out of it, and gagged when I was brought here, but oddly enough, not blindfolded. But if we go out through that door over there and take the freight elevator to the green room behind the stage we can get out that way,” Alison replied.

“Right,” Madrox replied.

“There’s one thing I still don’t understand about all this,” M stated as they trooped out.  
“What’s that?” Terry asked.

“Why go to all this trouble?”

“I get the impression that he wanted to turn me over to some sort of anti-mutant organization.”

“What changed his mind?”

 

“I can’t be entirely certain but if I had to hazard a guess I think, and I’m not a hundred percent certain of this, but I’d call a ‘Phantom of the Opera Syndrome.”

“Does such a thing even exist?” Terry asked.

“It does now.” Alison replied.

“Indeed,” Longshot agreed.


End file.
